Silver Bells, Wedding Bells
by blue artemis
Summary: The Ministry decides that a forced wedding is just the thing for Christmas.


Postwar, Wizarding Britain was in an emergency state. The expected baby boom never came, leaving the magicals in the country on the verge of extinction, even if they failed to realize it. Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, with the help of Professor Vector of Hogwarts and a few other Arithmancers from Europe and the Americas, developed a system of formulae that would match the remaining population of child-bearing age to their best productive matches.

Realizing the tempest they were creating, they prepared letters holding the best three matches to send off to each person once the proclamation would be printed in the newspaper.

Each person had one best match, which would be on the letter for both the witch and the wizard. Unbeknownst to even the Minister, that match, if the pair would give it a chance, was not only the most likely to produce magical children, but would result in the happiest marriages. The Arithmancers tried their best to make certain the population would be happy.

For the witches or wizards who did not have a best match among the currently living, only the witches would get the letters.

_**The**__** Daily **__**Prophet**_

_December__ 12, 2003_

_Wizarding__ World__ in __Peril __of __Extinction__—__Marriage__ Law __Passed __unanimously_

_Due __to __the__ fall __in __British __magical __births__, __the __Wizengamot __has__ passed __the __Marriage __and __Procreation __Act __of__ 2003. __Minister__ of __Magic __Kingsley __Shacklebolt__ had__ the __following __to __say__: "__A __cadre __of __Arithmancers__, __led __by __our__ very __own__ Professor __Vector__, __have__ determined __the__ '__best __matches__' __for __each__ witch __and__ wizard __of __child__-__bearing__ age__. __In __most __cases__, __only __the __witches __will __have __the __letters__, __giving __them __until __December__ 25 __of __this __year __to __marry__. __In __some__ special__ cases__, __wizards__ will __also__ get__ the __letters__, __showing __a__ '__super __match__.' __The__ Department __of __Mysteries __has__ stated __that __the __super__ matches __would __be__ the __most __desirable__, __but __knowing __that __due__ to__ various __reasons__, __some __pairs __will __not __find__ themselves __willing__ to __marry __that __match__. __As __long__ as __the __marriage__ is __one __of __the __list__, __then __they __will __be __acceptable__."_

Hermione Granger, as well as the rest of Wizarding Britain, read the morning's paper with trepidation. "Well, Crooks, I certainly hope I can live with at least one of the people on my list," she said to the attentive cat. As she finished speaking, a Ministry owl tapped on her window. She opened the letter, gasped, then ran toward the door, grabbing her cloak and heading for the nearest Apparition point, disappeared with a crack.

The Minister had seen the 'super matches' and told his secretary that anyone on that particular list was welcome into his office at any time.

Hermione Granger stalked into the Ministry, angry enough that her hair was crackling and demanded an audience with the Minister.

"Go right in, Miss Granger. Minister Shacklebolt is expecting you," replied Pansy Parkinson as pleasantly as she could.

"Thanks, Pansy. Just call me Hermione. I'm guessing you got your list as well this morning?" Hermione asked, remembering that Pansy had a very difficult life in the last five years.

Pansy's facade of pleasant helpfulness failed spectacularly at the gentle question. "Oh, Hermione, I don't know what to do! Someone obviously hates me! My list is Harry Potter, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Dennis Creevey! I can't even begin to imagine! I hate blonds, so that leaves Harry-bloody-Potter!"

"I happen to like Harry-bloody-Potter, but I can see why it would worry you. Harry isn't really one to hold grudges, though, not against what you did as a child," Hermione assured the distraught witch.

"Glad to hear you like me, Hermione, love. Now, go scare the bollocks off of Kingsley for the both of us, would you? I need to speak to Pansy," said Harry, having walked up on the scene.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Pansy, Angelina Johnson and Susan Bones," he said in reply.

"Oh dear. That is as bad as my list," said both Pansy and Hermione.

"Jinx!" both girls shouted and then grinned at each other.

Harry laughed at the interplay between the two witches. "I can see why you said Pansy had changed, Hermione." He turned to Pansy as Hermione walked through the Minister's door. "She's grown to like you, so I was hoping this wouldn't be horrible."

"I'm glad, I think. But why would I be preferred over Bones?"

"She is currently quite happily living with Ginny. I'm really afraid of what will happen if they have to break up," he explained.

"Oh. OH! You were covering for them?"

Harry nodded. He loved Ginny like a sister, and was actually quite happy to find she didn't REALLY want him. She just wanted her mother to leave her alone to love whomever she pleased.

Pansy took his arm, and whispered conspiratorially into his ear, "You know, there is a provision for witches and wizards like them. They just need a member of the opposite sex who is not family to vouch that they know of their relationship and that they've known for over a year. You could do that for them, right?"

"Absolutely. Why don't we Floo them after lunch and see if they would like me to get them removed from the list," said Harry, looking at the little brunette in a new light. "I think I'm going to be glad you were my super match, Pansy. Should we give this a shot?"

"Yes. How soon do you want to get married?" she responded.

"That isn't particularly Slytherin of you, now is it?" he teased.

"Oh, it absolutely is. How else will I get my money on the Potter millions?"

Harry stopped short and then saw that she had a gleam in her eye that was amused, not predatory. He pulled her in for a hug, surprising her.

"What was that for, Harry?"

"For not giving a Knut that I'm The-Boy-Who-Lived-Twice and just worrying about me being Harry-bloody-Potter. We can get married now, if you want," he said.

"Let me at least owl my mother, okay?" She laughed, threaded her arm through his, and dragged him off to Floo his friends and her mother, abandoning her post.

Hermione took a deep breath and pushed open the Minister's door. "Kingsley, this can't even remotely be real. Have you seen my matches? Horace Slughorn, Cormac McLaggen and Lucius Malfoy! Did Dolores Umbridge write these matches?"

"Hermione, love, please, please calm down. Your hair is starting to spark, and I really can't afford to rebuild this office from scratch," Kingsley reprimanded her gently. "I know you are upset, but you do trust Professor Vector, don't you? She just smiled enigmatically when I asked about the super matches, but I'm thinking they must have something to do with a possible love match as well as genetic match."

"So, do I have a super match? I was too upset earlier, but I realize now that Harry and Pansy were one," the witch asked, curious after his statement.

"You do," Kingsley intoned gravely. "It's Lucius Malfoy."

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, trying to wrap her prodigious mind around the concept of having to marry Lucius Malfoy.

"Hermione, he's changed quite a bit, especially since Narcissa died as a result of Riddle's last curse on her," cajoled the Minister.

"I know that, Kings, and he's the best of the bunch, but I can't see him happily married to me," she replied.

"Considering my list, Miss Granger, I must say that you are also the 'best of the bunch,' as you said." The cultured tones of Lucius's voice were unmistakable.

"I'm almost afraid to ask, Lucius," said Kingsley.

"Miss Granger, Minerva McGonagall and Ginevra Weasley," Lucius replied flatly. Then he looked at his parchment. "Interesting, Miss Weasley has just been erased from my list and is replaced by Millicent Bullstrode. I still say Miss Granger is my choice."

"Why would she be replaced, Kings?" asked Hermione.

"I'm guessing someone put in a validation of homosexuality for her," he replied.

"Harry. I doubt her brothers would do it, they're too afraid of Molly," she mused aloud.

"This is all well and good, Miss Granger. We need to plan our nuptials," Lucius stated.

She looked at him, really looked at him. He started to feel like he should cover himself, but he was fully dressed. "We have until Christmas Day, Mr. Malfoy. I would like us to court for the time being, and plan the wedding for Christmas Eve, if the Minister is amenable," Hermione challenged.

Lucius smiled, a true smile. Hermione was uncertain why her demand was met with pleasure, but she rather liked the response.

"As you wish, my dear. I will call upon you tonight at seven to take you to dinner at the Gilded Harp," Lucius said. He nodded to Kingsley, turned on his heel and left the office, striding away confidently.

"Why was he so happy, Kings?"

"He's been wanting to find a woman he could live with for quite a while, Hermione. He was devastated when Narcissa died, and he had become accustomed to being married. Unfortunately most of the women he's dealt with have been gold-diggers. He came in here perturbed by the same thing you were, and has walked out feeling like you are considering him as a person, not as what you can gain."

"I wouldn't do that, Kings. I may not be happy about this, but I will make an effort," Hermione said.

"I know, love, I know."

Hermione left the office slightly calmer than she had entered it.

Kingsley looked at his list. He knew who his super match was, he just hoped he could convince her they could manage a life together. She wasn't known for her easy acquiescence to anything.

At six-o-clock Hermione was flinging robes willy-nilly, trying to find the right thing to wear. She never heard her Floo and almost hexed Ginny when she just walked into the room, after not getting an answer.

"What a welcome! What's got you in such a dither?" Ginny asked.

"Like you don't know, Gin. What do I have in here that I can wear to The Gilded Harp?" Hermione's retort would have sounded snappier if it hadn't ended on a wail.

"You have that month's worth of robes you were given by that Italian designer, remember?"

"I don't know about those... They are a bit over the top, aren't they?" Hermione was dubious.

"Hermione, you are about to enter a whirlwind courtship with one of the wealthiest men in Wizarding Britain, and that is AFTER the reparations he made. He's got his fingers in so many pies, they are on his toes!" Ginny was exuberant.

"Pies on his toes, Gin, really?"

Both girls laughed.

Ginny rummaged through the designer robes and fished out a set of bronze-colored off-the-shoulder robes. "These are perfect!" She got Hermione into them, then wrestled her hair into a semblance of respectability. A touch of understated make-up later, she turned Hermione toward her mirror.

"Oh, Gin, I look beautiful! Thank you!"

Ginny just shook her head, and waved her best friend off. When Hermione had found out that Ginny liked girls, she was her staunchest ally. Her willingness to defend Ginny's right to love whomever she pleased completely ruined her relationship with the rest of the Weasleys except for Bill and Charlie. Hermione didn't seem to feel the loss, but Ginny knew what she had given up for her, and she was going to help her find happiness no matter what. _She's a bit dense for such a smart girl. She's always beautiful._

At seven exactly, Hermione heard a knock on her door. She had just finished transfiguring her favorite comfortable black pumps into a nude color with bronze flecks that would compliment her dress. She slipped on her shoes, and taking a calming breath, walked over to the door.

Lucius was standing there, looking resplendent in camel colored robes with fawn trousers and a white lawn shirt underneath. His boots were dragon hide and a lovely bronze, which matched her perfectly.

"Did Ginny happen to mention what I was wearing?" Hermione asked, just a bit amused.

"She did, Hermione. I thought we could make a statement on our first outing," replied Lucius.

"You mean the statement that we are making the best of the situation? I agree. Would you like to come in, Lucius? Or shall we go?" she asked.

"If your cloak is ready, we should go. It doesn't do to keep the restaurant waiting."

Hermione grabbed her ivory winter cloak and was bemused when Lucius took it from her, flourished it like a bull-fighter's cape and settled it over her shoulders, closing the clasp with great care. He offered his arm, which she took and he Apparated them with only the slightest sound.

Hermione appreciated the soft landing of Lucius's Apparition. "That was the least I've ever been bothered by an Apparition. I appreciate it," she told him.

Lucius smiled down at the little witch. "You did not fight it, or try to take it over, and our magic is compatible. It will make for very easy side-alongs," he said.

Hermione sighed. "I really wish we had classes in Wizarding culture. There is so much you take for granted that I don't know."

"I will be more than willing to teach you, Hermione, if you let me."

Hermione just stared, his voice had dropped a register and was very seductive. She processed what he had said and nodded at him happily.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the restaurant in front of them.

She again took his arm and let herself be led in.

The opulence of the restaurant was almost unbelievable. Hermione was trying not to look like a fish out of water while gazing at what had to be gilded—with actual gold-walls.

"Don't worry, my dear. I know this place looks a bit like a bordello or harem, but the food is excellent," Lucius said to her.

Hermione realized everyone's eyes were on them, but she decided to make the best of it. "Have you ever tried the tasting menu? I rather like doing that the first time I'm in a restaurant if I can. My par—my parents always said if you were going to go out, the chef should be put through their paces."

Lucius looked thoughtful. "I don't know if that is available in a wizarding establishment, it is a small taste of everything?"

"Not exactly. It is a collection of mouthfuls, but some is from the menu and some the chef makes special. Would it be some sort of social gaffe to ask?"

In answer, Lucius called the maître d' over. "Saul, do you know if the chef has a tasting menu? The lovely Miss Granger said it was a family tradition of hers to have it her first time at a restaurant new to her."

Saul grinned. "Yes, he most certainly does! He is very rarely asked for it, because it is not something well-known in pureblood circles, but he will be thrilled. Is that what you and the lady would like? Is there anything you won't or can't eat?"

Lucius looked at Hermione, who responded easily. "I don't eat raw onions, but I don't mind them cooked into food. I would prefer not to eat eel. Other than that, I love to try new food."

"I have no issues with any of the usual ingredients. If it is exotic seafood, I occasionally find an allergy to shellfish from the Pacific Islands," recited Lucius calmly.

"Very good!" The maître d' left their table with a spring in his step. The chef would be pleased. Other diners would see the very powerful couple doing something unusual and would require the same the next time they came in. It would be a very good evening.

Hermione and Lucius enjoyed a varied yet exquisite seven course meal. The tasting portions were big enough to make them feel like they had a good grasp of the dish, but not so big that they were overstuffed at the end. The maître d' had a good time explaining what the unusual service was to many patrons, and the weeks were filled with more diners making special tasting menu reservations, wanting to share the experience.

Hermione found herself relaxing with the good food and the good company. She smiled to herself, prompting Lucius to question her.

"Am I amusing you?"

"Yes, no, yes, oh, bother!" Hermione shook her head, not knowing how beguiling Lucius found it. "I'm really enjoying myself. The food is excellent and you are knowledgeable, witty and charming. I didn't know what to expect coming into this, but it wasn't this, this... rapport!"

"I'm rather pleased myself. I did not know of this tasting menu phenomena and it was a new experience in a place I've been to many times. I look forward to our courtship, nay-our marriage, because I expect that there will be much like this to enjoy," he responded.

Hermione's toes curled at his declaration, for that is what it was, in such a public place.

Her smile made him feel like the only man in the world.

Neither one could wait for their next date.

Hermione had the time of her life on the next few dates. Lucius took her ice-skating on the fourth day, outfitting her in a cloak and muff of the softest white fur she'd ever felt. "The fur is from the pelts of Snow Puffs," he told her.

"What is a Snow Puff?" she asked.

"They are the breeding ancestors for Pygmy Puffs, but they are very large and white, their fur is very thick and rather bristly while they live. It softens after death, but only if it is a natural one. Once they pass, their pelts are collected from the reserves. You needn't worry the animal was killed for your pleasure," he explained.

That was the first day she kissed him.

The _Daily__ Prophet_ was full of speculation, mainly because the pair was fairly elusive, if very public in their courtship. Rita Skeeter was placed in Azkaban for following them. It certainly wasn't Hermione's fault that she accidentally cast an Animagus revealing spell at the tree outside the window of the day spa on their eighth date. It _certainly_ wasn't her fault that Rita fell on an Auror.

December twenty-third came quite a bit sooner than Hermione expected. A cadre of house-elves had moved all of her belongings and furnishings into the manor. She arrived shortly after lunch, breathless from her delighted laughter at lunch with Ginny.

Lucius met her in the Apparation foyer, and seeing her happiness picked her up and swung her around.

"Darling, I want to show you the house. It has been re-worked and will be mostly unrecognizable to you. Narcissa insisted..." he trailed off, uncertain what his mention of his deceased spouse would cause as a reaction.

"You loved her very much, didn't you, Lucius?"

"I did. She was my first true love," he answered.

"Do you have room in your heart for me?"

"Yes, Hermione, I do. I realized our first outing to The Gilded Harp, when you wanted to try something different, but not at the cost of the traditions I hold dear. You are so much more than I could have hoped for when this started. I can only wish that Draco's match is nearly as good."

Hermione grinned. "But not entirely?"

"She won't be you, now will she?"

Hermione's delighted laughter warmed the manor, even the elves basked in the warmth she brought to their home.

After a sumptuous dinner, Lucius showed her around the manor. After a rather long walk, she was shown to the family wing. "This is our suite. Here is the Master bedroom, here is your bedroom, this is our bath- What's wrong?"

"You don't want me in your bed?"

"Of course I want you in my bed. But I was raised to the belief that if there were enough rooms, each person should have their own," he responded, uncertain as to why she was so upset.

"I can see having my own office, or dressing room, or even a closet bigger than my flat, but I don't want my own bedroom, Lucius! I want to be able to hold on to you at night and feel safe in the knowledge you are there for me. I don't want to have to go looking if I wake up wanting you! I just can't go into a marriage knowing that there will be actual physical barriers to intimacy!" Hermione had begun to cry. It felt like all the hopes that had been built up during their courtship had been punctured.

Lucius moved quickly to her, taking her face in his hands and carefully wiping away the tears that had fallen.

"If you wish to share my bed, beloved, then you shall. We can convert your bedroom into a sitting room. Will that suffice? Please don't leave me, I'm tired of being alone," he begged.

"I'd like it as a sitting room. I won't leave, Lucius, I promise," she said.

They both startled at the glow that began at her words.

"I won't leave you either, I promise you, Hermione."

The glow enveloped them, winding itself into a cord that bound their left wrists.

"A marriage by magic," breathed Lucius, in awe of what had happened.

"You'll have to explain th-" Hermione was interrupted by Lucius's mouth on hers in one of the most passionate kisses she'd ever experienced.

She felt cool air as he wandlessly removed her clothing, then lay her reverently on the bed. He ran his large hands up and down her body, learning her curves. Hermione writhed in pleasure, trying to get her hands on him, but was frustrated when he pulled away.

"Not tonight, love. Tomorrow we will learn each other, part and parcel of our public vows, but tonight you are mine."

Lucius practically growled the last three words, making Hermione even more aroused just with his voice.

He decided to follow his hands with his lips and tongue, paying particular attention to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, then down to her breasts, where he laved and nipped, causing her to make the most delicious sounds and movements.

The curve of her waist delighted him, as did her hips. She gasped as he parted her legs with his hands, then screamed in delight when he used his mouth on her nether lips. He flicked his tongue on her clit, laughing when she almost bucked him off in her delight.

He raised himself up as she stopped shuddering and braced himself above her. "May I?" he asked, his voice deep with desire.

"Yes, Lucius, yes!" she almost shouted in return.

At her acquiescence, he drove into her. Hermione had never been filled so well. She could feel herself stretching around him and the friction was making her crazy. "More, more, more!" she chanted, pleasing her partner.

"Do you like it, witch?" he gasped out between thrusts.

"Yes! More! Faster!"

He took her at her word, pounding her hard into the mattress. After a few more minutes, they both found their crest together, Hermione delighting in the feel of his cock pulsating in its release.

Lucius moved off of her, turning onto his side, and pulling her close, her head resting on his shoulder. "I believe our compatibility encompasses our bed sport, love."

Hermione laughed. "I'd have to agree, Lucius. When I first got my list I was dreadfully afraid I was going to live my life in a loveless marriage, churning out children for the Ministry and trying my best not to commit homicide. But now, now I see the future and it is beautiful. You suit me so well. And no, before you ask, I don't mind that Draco is your heir."

Lucius squeezed the little witch he had fallen for and kissed her softly. He waved his wand over the both of them and bade her good night.

"Darn," she said softly, sleep in her voice. "I kind of wanted to try out that tub..."

Their binding was lovely and simple, his guests were Draco and his wife Luna, and Hermione had Harry, Pansy, Ginny and Susan there. They needed no one else.

Late that night, as they soaked in the tub, Hermione turned to Lucius and said, "Merry Christmas love. I have a gift for you."

"I saw it under the tree, Hermione, you know there is a gift from me there for you as well."

She smiled. "Mine is far closer than that, love," she said as she drew his hand to her stomach. "In a few weeks, we shall know if Draco has a brother or a sister."

Lucius swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, a series of charms drying them as they left the bathroom.

"I could not ask for a better gift, my love. You hold my heart, you know."

"I know, Lucius, and you hold mine."

The Marriage Law was repealed fifteen years later, when the population boom ensured the survival of the Wizarding World.

A/N: This was written as part of the Granger Enchanted Secret Santa Exchange 2011.

Prompt from Kathryn Conrath: -Ah, the infamous marriage law! Can't resist one of those. Hermione is forced to marry to perpetuate the Wizarding world; she is not particularly enthusiastic (naturally), but she grows to love whomever she marries.

Of her choices of pairings, I chose Hermione/Lucius.


End file.
